Contagious
by chasurozu
Summary: After Shizuo is fired from his latest job, he isn't able to pay his rent and has to move in with his little brother, Kasuka. Kasuka tells Shizuo he'll help him find another job, but Shizuo isn't too fond of working for Izaya Orihara. AU, Shizaya.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Contagious  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Shizuo/Izaya  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own none of these characters.

**THIS FIC CONTAINS MALEXMALE RELATIONSHIPS. **Don't like, don't read!

* * *

><p>So after a month of trying to find a job, and with the help of my little brother, Kasuka, I've finally managed to do just that. If it wasn't for Kasuka, I probably wouldn't have got the job. I guess that goes in the 'pro list' of having a famous sibling. But it's actually a pretty pathetic job, if you ask me – I'd rather be a bodyguard or something. All I have to do is make this guy coffee and do some filing work.<p>

What was that called again? …An assistant? I think so.

Though I haven't met this guy yet, I heard he's a total dick and no one can stand to be around him for more than fifteen minutes. The last assistant he had quit because he made her cry. It's not very hard to make a girl cry, but I'd like to see him make me cry. I'm a man, I don't cry as easily as a girl.

I still kind of feel bad for her though, you know? She probably did nothing wrong; he was probably just being an asshole.

But seriously, how hard could making coffee be? I already have experience making coffee with my old job at the café. I think I'll be good in that department; unless, he's one of those people who like Starbucks. That would make things easier for me, because all I'd have to do is go out and buy it for him; instead of making it and probably messing up.

I'll bring him coffee all day if he wants me too; as long as he doesn't piss me off… or that steaming cup or coffee is going in his face.

Speaking of his face, I wonder what he looks like. From what I heard he sounds like a grumpy old man, probably balding a little with big spectacles. Ha-ha. Oh well, I guess I'll find out tomorrow morning.

"You should get to bed soon." My brother calls from the bathroom, in that monotone voice of his. As if he has to remind me about my 'big day' tomorrow, I've been thinking/worrying about it all day.

I don't believe I mentioned living with my brother, have I? Now you know. I had to move in with him after I lost my last job and I couldn't pay my rent. That was about a month ago; since then, I've been looking for a new job. Once I get enough money from this job and I'm back on my feet, I'll be able to move out. Then I won't have to count on my little brother so much. I kind of feel like a dick for putting him through all this, even if he says he doesn't care.

I call back a short: 'Alright!' and shuffle into my room. I kick aside a few discarded T-shirts while I make my way to my dresser. I pull out a pair of blue sweat pants and a white shirt to sleep in.

I just hope this new job works out for me. I'm going to try my hardest to not get angry.

Wish me luck.

* * *

><p>The next morning, the only thought that was going through my head was something along the lines of: 'Does he like his coffee black or with creamer? And if he does like creamer, what kind of creamer or flavoring does he prefer?'<p>

I got up an hour earlier than I had to. Don't ask – I just felt it was needed. But these thoughts have been bothering me all morning and I'm starting to get worried. I didn't know if there was a coffee machine at the office or if I had to stop somewhere and pick some up. I should have asked the girl who was interviewing me. I should've asked stupid questions like this so I wouldn't get fucking fired on my first day!

Wait.

He wouldn't fire me over something so small. He couldn't be _that _mad over a cup of coffee. Though, my interviewer did mention that he was kind of a –

…

I'll just have to take my chances.

I stand up, giving the mirror behind my door a once over, and adjusting my blue tie. I'm clad in a pair of black slacks and a white button up (and blue tie, like I just mentioned.) Kasuka bought me a pair of black dress shoes to match, so I wouldn't look like a bum wearing sneakers with these nice cloths. I think this is the nicest I've ever dressed; minus my bartender faze.

Alright, don't laugh at me… I understand Starbucks in kind of girly and cliché; but I have this gut feeling that's practically pulling me through these glass doors and to the front counter. My eyes fix on the menu of beverages above the counter, skimming for something that my boss would like – maybe like. I prefer Gloria Jean's over Starbucks actually. However, I have had a few drinks from here before. And I have to say, they proved to be quite nice.

But I still have one big problem: What does he like? I guess I should just get him something I fancy and hope he thinks so too.

I settle on getting him a 'Caffè Misto.' Not too eye-popping but still very flavorful.

I thank the women behind the counter and exit the shop, heading in the direction of my new job. It's a medium sized building, all black and shining when the sun hits it just right. I can tell it wasn't built very long ago.

When I reach it, I take a moment to stand outside and stare up at it. His office is on the top floor. And I'm not a very big fan of heights. But, you know, people do crazy things for their jobs.

I sigh and walk inside. Instantly, I head for the elevator. I don't really feel like socializing with anyone.

The elevator opens, and a brunette woman steps inside with me and gives me a warm smile. I return it. She's short, with brown hair pulled into a bun at the back, but a few pieces of bangs are hanging down and shaping her face nicely. She's wearing a black office dress-thing and holding a binder to her chest. Her big brown eyes are as warm and welcoming as her smile. When the doors close, however, I find her eyeing my Starbucks cup curiously.

"Is that for Izaya?" She asks, gesturing to my cup with her head.

It takes me a moment to nod because I've completely forgotten my boss's first name. I only remembered his last name – Orihara.

"Yeah,"

She hums lightly in reply and releases her binder to hold a hand out to me. "I'm Erika, I work for Izaya too. You must be Shizuo – the newbie."

It's kind of weird when random people know your name, but I shake her hand anyway.

"How did you know Izaya likes Starbucks?" She seems amused, and way too happy. Then she giggles and keeps talking before I can even get a word in. I'm already started to feel a little annoyed. "Don't tell me Namie told you, Izaya wanted to keep you guessing!"

Namie? Namie? …Who was that again?

I shake my head. "Truthfully, I just guessed."

I do feel a little prideful for getting him the right coffee – or at least coffee from the right shop. It's all thanks to my gut feeling; I should follow it more often. But pat on the back, Shizuo. For once you guessed something right. I feel some of the tension and worry from earlier slip away. Then I noticed this girl – Erika – smiling at my widely. It's kind of creepy really. I raise an eyebrow at her.

"That's cute!" She giggles. I didn't know that knowing someone's favorite coffee shop was cute. Girls are weird.

The door makes a 'bing' when we finally reach the top floor. I guess she's coming with me, then. Oh wait, she said she worked for Izaya – Mr. Orihara – too…

_Great_.

I let her walk out first and then follow.

I notice now that the whole freakin' top floor is his office. There's one wall that's just all windows and an empty black desk sits in front of it. There's a small sitting area and a T.V. off to my left; a mini-meeting-table off to my right. The only thing that seems to separate the whole top floor is the bathroom door and what I'm guessing is a closet.

He must be really rich if he gets a whole floor to himself…

Erika puts the binder on the desk and then pats a spot next to it. "You can just set the coffee here. It's not like you have to hand it to him personally."

I walk over and set the coffee on the desk. I take a moment to skim over his desk; which is pretty much empty except for a computer and the binder Erika set down earlier. But one other thing catches my eye also – an empty picture frame, sitting up right as if a picture were in it. I'm guessing he's not married and he just doesn't know exactly what he wants to put in the frame yet.

The elevator door 'bings' again and a man with short black hair steps in. I find myself stepping quickly away from the desk. I don't want anyone to think I'm snooping. That would be bad.

The first thing I notice about this newcomer is that his eyes are an extraordinary color; a pretty reddish-brown. Then the pale skin; then the fur coat he's wearing, which looks way too girly for a dude… at least in my opinion.

I stiffen when his eyes land on me. I can't tell what he thinks of me because he doesn't smile nor frown; just stares. Then he turns to Erika and jabs a finger at me, rudely. "Who's this?"

This little shit can't even ask me personally who I am. Fucking –

"You're new assistant, Shizuo Heiwajima." She replies, still smiling like she did in the elevator.

So this was the famous Izaya Orihara? He doesn't look anything like I imagined him to look. Well, he's Asian, as I expected by his name, but he looks way younger than what I thought he was. And he's more... happy looking.

Secretly, he's kind of attractive too. He's shorter than me, probably by a few inches, and has a thin frame. Everything about him seems to complement each other. His hairs; his eyes; his skin – they all look perfect together.

"Ah~ hello, Shizuo." Izaya says, turning away from Erika to face me. The hand he was pointing at me earlier was now stretched out in greeting.

I give it a firm shake. I'm kind of taken aback by how soft and delicate his hand feels in mine. I mean, I know I have big hands, but his hands feel right in mine – okay, I'm just going to stop talking now…

I clear my throat, brushing away the thoughts when he releases my hand. I watch him walk to his desk, curiously. He seems to notice the coffee first because he points at it with a smile.

"Aw, Shizu-chan~ how did you know?"

Shizu-chan? …The _fuck_?

The stupid nickname makes me grit my teeth.

I don't trust my voice at the moment, so I decide just to shrug.

"He told me he guessed!" Erika pips in, cheerfully. I'm starting to wonder if everyone here is as happy as these two. Not that I like prissy bitches, but I'm not too offend of hyper people either.

Izaya picks up the cup and sips it. And there's a moment of silence.

I feel like I'm sitting in a fucking judgment room, waiting for my 'innocent' or 'guilty.'

"It's good." He says. As if he's surprised by it.

Instead of being happy that I picked the right kind of coffee, I'm kind of feeling pissed. It's fucking coffee. Coffee! Why on earth am I being judged over coffee?

I don't like him already, I decide.

He may be attractive and he may have a nice ass, but I don't like him.

He sets the coffee cup back on the desk and takes a seat in his black chair that looks too big for him, in my opinion. He starts flipping though the binder that Erika brought up. His lips flicker from a smile, to a frown, and then back to a smile.

I notice out of the corner of my eyes that Erika's smile fades slightly and she's staring at Izaya intently. I'm guessing that's her work and now it's her turn to be judged.

"This is good, so far," Izaya states simply and closes the binder. He pushes it off to the side of his desk. "I'll look it over more thoroughly later."

Erika immediately breaks into a smile, looking entirely excited by Izaya words. "Really? Yumachii and I stayed up all night looking it over."

Izaya gives a short chuckle. "Tell him I said good job too."

Izaya waves a hand dismissively; which I'm take as a sign to leave. I turn and follow Erika to the elevator; who is walking to the door with a little skip in her step.

I watch Izaya through the closing doors. And just before they close, I see him look right at me and break out into a smirk. "Bye bye, Shizu-chan!"

FuckshitfuckGoddamnit.

I hate that stupid nickname…

* * *

><p>Eh. Not sure about this one.<p>

Encourage me?


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Contagious  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Shizuo/Izaya  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own none of these characters.

**THIS FIC CONTAINS MALEXMALE RELATIONSHIPS. **Don't like, don't read!

* * *

><p>"Slushy,"<p>

"Slushy?" I echo, uncertainly. He never asks for slushies. The only thing I've bought him, for the past five days, was coffee.

He hasn't looked up from the large stack of paperwork he's been flipping through since I entered his office, so I don't expect anything more than the nod he directs at me.

"You don't want coffee?" I only ask this because I'm still confused – or more like surprised – that he doesn't want his daily dose of cafeine. Since I started working for Izaya, he's never asked me for a slushy. Everyday, the fuckin' coffee addict would call me up and ask for a coffee from Starbucks. Only Starbucks coffee. He refused to drink any other kind of coffee.

And it was seven o'clock in the morning now. Who the hell drinks a slushy this early in the morning? I know I don't.

He stops skimming his paperwork momentarily, and looks up at me with a raised eyebrow. "Did I stutter?"

I clench my teeth. But instead of freaking out by his snotty sounding reply, I stay quiet and shake my head.

I can't let my anger out on this prick. He's my boss, and if I took his little insults too harshly and flipped out on him, I'd get fired for sure. And we can't let that happen.

It's not just that tiny – not very offensive, at all – line that has me pissed off, either. It was the past five days all combined – it's been hell trying to keep my anger bottled up. Everyday he would call me up, even if I had other work to take care of, and ask for a refill of coffee. He would give me the money, and I'd have to walk all the way to Starbucks to get him a damned coffee, so he can drink it and get back to work. And he never said thank you either.

Izaya waves a hand dismissively, a sign for me to leave, then turns his attention back to his paperwork.

I turn and take quick strides towards the elevator. I just want to rid myself of him right now. I don't want to see him; I don't want to hear him –

"Make sure it's strawberry!" I hear him call after me.

God must hate me.

I decide to go to a random fast food place to buy Izaya's strawberry slushy. It's not like he would be able to tell the difference, all slushies taste the same.

I frown up at the menu in front of me. They _would_ only have two flavors. Cheap piece of shits. And it would be my luck to pick the one place that only has cherry and grape slushies, no strawberry. I don't even know any other places that sell slushies besides this one and McDonalds. But Izaya once told me he hated McDonalds with a passion, and that their coffee tasted horrible. So I'm guessing he thinks the same about their slushies. I don't know if Starbucks has slushies, either. I'm not walking all the way there to find out.

I could just get him a cherry and hope he doesn't taste the difference. Honestly, the flavoring the put into slushies tastes the same to me.

I buy the cherry slushy, after having a huge argument with myself over the choice. I thank the man behind the counter for his kindness and exit, walking down the street and back towards the huge, shiny, black building.

I don't know why I worry about what Izaya drinks all the time. I buy him something and immediately wonder if something went wrong and he'll dislike the taste. At the moment, I can't stop thinking about him not liking the slushy and finding out that its cherry flavored instead of strawberry.

I hate my job. It causes me _way_ too much stress.

When I get to the office, I tell Erika about the issue. She usually knows what to do in situations like this; she's always giving me hints and shit to earn Izaya's kindness (even though none of them have worked for me so far.)

She kind of rolls her eyes at me and goes back to clicking away at her keyboard.

What? no reassuring words? no little hints?

She doesn't care if I get fired off of this. Fine, forget her.

Yumasaki, whose office is right next to Erika's, pops up besides me and clasps a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, hey, don't get yourself all worked up over nothing. If Izaya figures it out that it's cherry, just deny it."

I furrow my eyebrows. That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard. What was I? five?

Erika spins around in her chair and claps her hands together, looking up at both of us with big, shimmering eyes. "Yes! And then you kiss him while saying a cheesy line like 'I'm sure it's strawberry. Let me have a taste.' That would be so hot!"

Beside me, Yumasaki groans. "No. He doesn't want anything to do with your crazy B.L. fantasies."

"Of course he does! Do you not see the way him and Izaya look at each other?"

Yumasaki shakes his head.

"They look like they're ready to eat one another." She snickers.

Yumasaki opens his mouth to voice a comeback, but I cut him off by wrapping my arm around his neck and covering his mouth with my hand. "I do not."

Erika stands and crosses her arms, not blinking as she stares at me in a way most people would find intimidating. Not me though, I'm Shizuo Heiwajima.

"You're in denial."

"In denial?" I scoff.

"You totally want to pound Izaya's sweet, little ass."

"I do not!" I holler, and truthfully, I don't know why I was so offended by that. Some people walking around the hall stop and look towards Erika's office. I lower my head in embarrassment, while Erika raises a thin brown eyebrow.

"Fine, fine, you don't." She says, twirling and sitting back in her seat. She seems a little disappointed, not making eye contact with either of us (Yumasaki and me, I mean.) "Now release my boyfriend and go give Izaya his slushy."

I don't care if she's disappointed in my 'denial.' It's not like I'm going to scream to the world that I secretly think Izaya's attractive.

The elevator ride to Izaya's office feels longer than all the other times I've rode it. People keep getting on and getting off, and since my destination is the top floor, I have to wait for everyone else to go up a couple floors at a time before I can finally get to his office. And, let me tell you, the ride was irritating. I was already pissed – and worried – about the stupid slushy incident, and now I was just getting more pissed. That's just what I need! more anger pilled onto me.

The elevator stops at Izaya's office, emitting a small 'bing' before the doors part open and show me the large expanse of Izaya's office. And Izaya's leaning over his desk… his back facing me… and giving me quite a wonderful view of his round behind. He's leaning over his desk, his elbows resting a-top. One of his hands was twirling a pencil around his fingers lazily, as he chatted about some meeting on his cell.

I stood there for a moment, letting my eyes move down Izaya's back before my eyes rested on his ass. And _damn_, those tight black slacks he's wearing were hugging his ass perfectly.

..I'm such a pervert.

But I can't deny that every inch of Izaya is beautiful. Like I've said before, he may be a total dick and piss me off to the point where I want to chuck him out a window, but there's this part of me that wants to bend him over his desk and fuck the living daylights out of him.

I force my eyes up and back to Izaya head, so I won't get caught staring at my boss's ass. But I'm greeted by two ruby-colored eyes staring at me from over his shoulder.

Oh, shit.

I swallow the sudden lump in my throat, and shakily hold up the slushy between us.

"I got your drink…"

* * *

><p><em>Who's happy to see this <em>horrible_ update? I know I'm not._

_Eyes17k - Truthfully, Starbucks isn't as good as I make it sound in the fic. xD I've only had it twice._


	3. Chapter 3

Eyebrows arched, Izaya slowly turns his body towards me, leaning back against his desk as he says his final goodbyes to whomever he had been speaking to on his cell phone. I feel a nervous lump building as my throat as Izaya lowers his cell phone to his desk, silently.

I really hope I don't get fired for this. What would I tell Kasuka? Something like, "Oh, hey, yeah, I got fired today for checking out Orihara Izaya's while he was bent over his desk."

I'm still holding the slushy out, arm stretched fully out in front of me like a complete idiot. Izaya hasn't moved to take the slushy from my hand, and he doesn't look like he plans on it anytime soon. The cup feels cold against my fingers, but I can't really focus of my frozen fingers because Izaya is staring me down like a hungry dog. I had never felt more intimidated than I do now. My life was literally within Izaya's fingers, and I'm just a game piece, waiting for Izaya—the player—to make his move.

I clear my throat and repeat, albeit more calmly this time around, "I got your drink."

"I can see that," is Izaya's immediate reply. He lifts his hand and makes a movement with his fingers that motions me to move towards him.

I slowly clear the space between us but then stop when the slushy is in arms reach of Izaya. He doesn't seem to be very interested in the slushy though because he's still staring at me. And, honestly, it's kind of pissing me off. I would've punched anyone else for even glancing at me like that.

"Here," I say, shaking the cup for good measure, "take it."

I almost choke when Izaya simply laughs, his face splitting into one of those notorious smirks of his. He still doesn't reach to take the slushy, however.

"What?" I snap. Either he doesn't seem to hear me or he completely ignores me because he continues laughing. And, for a moment, I think it might never end - but his laughs eventually fall to light chuckles before stopping completely, though it seems like an eternity before that actually happens.

He whips a tear from the corner of his eye before turning his complete attention back to me. "Ah, Shizu-chan, you brought my slushy!" he says, as if his evil stare-down and maniac-laughing moment never happen. He reaches out to take the slushy from my hand _finally;_ but, for some odd reason, I find myself drawing my hand back, and Izaya's hand stops short, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Shizu-chan," he speaks in the type of tone that is between warning and quizzical, "give me my slushy."

"Only if you promise not to fire me," I say quickly.

Izaya stares, and his eyebrows furrow further as he continues to stare at me. "Excuse me?" he finally asks.

"I can't lose this job," I respond. I sound so desperate. I'm so fucking mad at myself for doing this, but I can't lose this job—

I just— I can't— Fuck.

"I never said I was going to fire you," Izaya says cautiously, finally drawing his hand back and curling his fingers around the edge of his desk. "You're simply making assumptions."

"Don't fuck with me," I growl. "No one could get caught staring at their boss like that and not get fired for it."

And suddenly, much to my dismay, Izaya starts laughing again. "So you admit it!" he spits out between his laughing fit. "You were looking me up! I wasn't sure if you were before but now I'm sure—oh my, oh my, ahahahaaa~!"

I feel his fingers twitch, and my grip on Izaya's cup tightens only _slightly_.

"Stop laughing!" I bark.

"Or what?" Izaya snickers. "What will you do, Shizuo? Hit me?"

Fuck yeah, I want to hit him so hard right now. I want to hit him until he can't smile anymore.

He steps foward and runs one of his hands over my tye before gripping it and yanking me towards him. I stumble about a foot but then catch myself, glaring down at him.

"You really need to learn how to let that anger out a different way," he whispers. He steps forward, and his grip on my tye keeps me from stepping backwards. I try not to think about the way his breath lingers on my skin when he continues to speak, "It's not heathly to keep things like that builty up, Shizu-chan."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," I grumble.

"That's a shame." Izaya gives a dramatic sigh and peels himself away from me. "I was looking forward to us having some _fun_."

I don't think my face could get any hotter.

"Fuck you," is all I can think to say. But Izaya just shakes his head and slowly takes his slushy out of my hand, as if he expects me to snap my hand away from him again.

"Yeah, yeah," he says while setting the cold drink on his desk. "You can go now, Shizu-chan, I'm done with you."

I'm already walking to the elevator by the time he finishes his sentence.

* * *

><p><em>WOW. <em>_It's been a while, hasn't it? _

_I've been so focused on finishing Disintegrate that I abandoned this for a while. And I'm sorry__ for this very short and pathetic update._


End file.
